


The First 90 Minutes Are The Most Important

by twtd



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twtd/pseuds/twtd
Summary: England’s women’s football team has just won the World Cup. Obviously, the next step is a photo-op at No. 10 Downing Street.Or, the Football Star/Prime Minister AU that you never knew you needed.
Relationships: Hardbroom/Pentangle (Worst Witch)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 119





	The First 90 Minutes Are The Most Important

**Author's Note:**

> This was 100% inspired by a picture in a discord server. I blame everyone there.
> 
> ETA: thank you, thank you, thank you to Nike_SGA and Cliotheproclaimer for Brit picking this for me!

“The more difficult the victory, the greater the happiness in winning.”  
_Pelé_

They’d won! They’d actually fucking won! They’d finally managed to break through and win a World Cup. Pippa couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t breathe. The medal hung around her neck and the trophy was in her hand. Confetti stuck to her champagne-and-sweat-soaked skin and she couldn’t stop smiling. The locker room was draped in plastic to keep the champagne from ruining anything other than the kits they already wore. Another bottle of champagne popped behind Pippa and she turned to see Dimity drinking straight from the bottle. She laughed. She couldn’t stop laughing. The party that night was going to be epic. 

* * *

Pippa held her breath as the door to Number 10 Downing Street opened. As captain of the team, she was first in line to shake the Prime Minister’s hand, the World Cup trophy heavy in own. With a slight clicking, the door opened and the cameras went crazy. It distracted Pippa for half a second and when she turned back around, the Prime Minister stood in front of her. Pippa felt like her feet had just been taken out from under her, a slide tackle that left her winded on the turf staring up at the sky. The Prime Minister was _stunning_. Oh, Pippa had always thought Hecate Hardbroom attractive enough, more so than the average politician, but in person… Pippa suddenly couldn’t string together two sentences. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as the Prime Minister shook her hand and offered her her congratulations. It only took a second before she stumbled along to let the next member of the team through to do the same. 

God, she had acted like an idiot. She hadn’t even said thank you. She’d just stared. Now, the Prime Minister probably thought she was just a stupid footballer. Pippa wanted to bang her head against something, but the trophy was the only thing close at hand and wouldn’t that make an excellent headline? World Cup Champion knocks herself out with her own trophy. 

Dimity joined Pippa on the other side of the Prime Minister and just shook her head at Pippa’s internal meltdown. She must not be doing as good a job of hiding it as she thought. Maybe the cameras wouldn’t notice anything. Please let the cameras not have noticed anything. 

The rest of the team made it through the procession without embarrassing themselves and then Pippa was standing next to Hecate again. 

“It was quite a match.” Pippa startled as Hecate actually spoke to her. “The whole tournament, really. I particularly liked that goal you made against Germany in the semi-finals.” 

“Uh… I…” Pippa turned bright red. What was with her? She’d met attractive women before. She’d never acted like this. She swallowed. “Thank you.” 

The Prime Minister nodded. Was she even a football fan? Pippa has never heard anything to that effect. But clearly she had watched at least some of the tournament. 

“I,” she swallowed again, “I’m pretty sure I nearly gave myself a concussion with that one.” 

Hecate smiled slightly and Pippa figured that was as close as she would get to a laugh. 

A few minutes later, after raising the trophy one last time to the roar of the crowd, they were ushered inside for the reception that followed. Maybe with some food, Pippa would learn how to talk again and she could find something intelligent to say. 

* * *

As soon as they stepped into the reception, Pippa felt Dimity grab her by the arm and drag her off to the side of the room. 

“That was brilliant, mate.” She started laughing gleefully as she slapped Pippa’s back. “I’ve never known you to be thrown by a pretty girl before, but then, I guess you can’t call the PM a girl, now can you?” 

“I…” Pippa tried to come up with some way to salvage things, to make things less embarrassing, but she couldn’t. She groaned as she buried her face in her hands. “Was it really that bad? It was really that bad, wasn’t it?” 

“It was pretty bad.” Dimity bumped her shoulder against Pippa’s. “At least you don’t have to make any speeches this afternoon, yeah? You can just hide in the corner and drink even more champagne. Do you reckon we’ll ever get sick of champagne?”

Pippa joined in on Dimity’s laughter. “I don’t think victory champagne ever gets old.”

Dimity got a sly look on her face. “Looks like your crush is coming over here.” She finally let go of Pippa’s arm. “I’ll just be over there perusing the tiny cakes.” 

“Dimity!” Pippa reached out for Dimity but the other woman slipped out of her grasp. “Dimity, you can’t leave me,” she whisper shouted. Dimity wiggled her fingers as she took another step away. 

Pippa turned and there was the Prime Minister once again. And just like before, all of the air suddenly rushed from her lungs. 

“I seem to have run off your teammate.” Hecate nodded toward Dimity’s retreating back. 

“Uh…” Pippa looked up at her with wide eyes. “No. Of course not. She’s just really invested in desserts?” Pippa half smiled as she tried to hold her ground. That was so lame. She wanted to melt into the ground. 

“Mmm,” the Prime Minister hummed. “I’m not much of a fan, but I hear the pastry chef is excellent.” 

“I can’t imagine you wouldn’t have an excellent pastry chef at something like this. Really, you probably have an excellent chef all the time.” The chef? They might as well be talking about the weather. 

“I’m satisfied with their job performance, yes.” Hecate raised an eyebrow as if daring her to come up with a better topic of conversation. What did you talk to the Prime Minister about? Probably politics, but even though she voted and all that jazz, Pippa didn’t actually know much about politics. Hecate had seemed willing to talk about football though. Maybe they could talk about that? 

“So, did you watch the whole tournament?” Pippa clasped her hands together not sure of what else to do with them. Why was she being so awkward? She was better than this. 

“I watched at least part of most of the matches. When I could get away from my work.” 

Pippa nodded. “Right. Your work… running the country. That work.” 

“Yes, that work,” Hecate said dryly, though her eyes crinkled slightly in amusement. It made her look younger than her forty-two years. Pippa felt like she was fifteen. “Between us, I much prefer the women’s game to the men’s. There’s somewhat less flopping around on the field pretending to be gravely injured only to jump back up again and run off like nothing’s happened.”

Pippa laughed and finally, finally managed to snag a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “It’s just tactics. But you’re right. It’s incredibly annoying. Particularly knowing that if the women tried it, people would dismiss us as weak, or not as skilled.” 

“I’m familiar with the phenomenon.” Hecate sipped her own glass of champagne. 

“Right. Of course you would be. I imagine sexist arseholes would make your job a lot harder. Harder than mine, at least. I just, you know, kick a ball around a field. You actually try to accomplish things.” 

“Don’t discount yourself. You’ve probably done more to inspire young girls than I ever will.” This time Hecate did smile. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should probably go talk to some of your other teammates. Particularly the one who left you in favor of a dessert.”

There was something almost vicious in Hecate’s eyes as she looked around the room for her next victim. At least, that’s how Pippa interpreted it.

“I believe she’s retreated behind that fern over there.” Pippa pointed to where Dimity was just visible through the houseplant. Turnabout's fair play, after all. 

“Splendid.”Just like that, Hecate was gone again. Pippa sighed and deflated. Maybe she’d salvaged that conversation in the end. Maybe the Prime Minister didn’t think she was a dolt after all. She watched Hecate approach Dimity like a shark scenting blood. It made her shiver as she wondered what it would be like to have that attention focused on her. She closed her eyes against the image. If Hecate did look at her like that, she probably wouldn’t survive. Good thing Hecate had moved on, right? Right. 

* * *

“Hello again,” came the voice from behind Pippa. She froze. She knew that voice. Her newfound interest in politics had imprinted that voice in her head. She closed her eyes and prepared to make a fool out of herself. 

“Prime Minister,” she said, and when she opened her eyes again, the woman was standing in front of her. They were at a charity event about encouraging women in sport. Pippa hadn’t realized the Prime Minister would be there also. 

“You look like I’m about to lead you to your execution. Surely my company isn’t that bad.” 

“No! No, of course not,” she rushed to reassure Hecate. “I just always find a way to humiliate myself whenever we talk.” Ok, that might have been a little too much honesty. Still, Hecate laughed and Pippa relaxed a little. 

“I don’t think that’s true.” Hecate’s eyes danced. “But I do find myself curious about why you would think so.” 

“Oh, no reason.” Pippa smiled uncomfortably and shrugged. “I just see you and all of my thoughts go rushing right out of my head. Then I’m left a blithering idiot.” What had she said about too much honesty?

Hecate shook her head. “I don’t think you’re a blithering idiot. In fact, I thought your speech at that awards show the other night was… not terrible. And it sounded like you wrote it yourself.”

“I did write it myself.” God, Hecate had watched that? Hecate had _taken her time_ to watch that? It was a good thing Pippa hadn’t known that beforehand or she would have tripped over every word of it. “You watched that?”

“Mmm, some of my staff are particularly enamored of the team. I saw a clip the next day.”

Oh. Her staff. 

“Right, of course.” Of course Hecate wouldn’t have watched the whole awards show. She probably only watched serious things. Shows about politics and the news. Stuffy things. Nevermind that her own viewing habits had taken a turn in that direction as she’d tried to see more of the Prime Minister. She still enjoyed a good, trashy soap. Not that she’d really had time to see them. Practices had already picked back up again. League play. Friendlies. It never ended. 

“I should probably go mingle.” Hecate looked around the room, but she seemed hesitant. Did she actually like talking to her? That kicked off a wave of butterflies in her stomach.

“And miss out on my sparkling conversation?” Oh God, was she flirting? Was she flirting with the _Prime Minister_? Was she suicidal? There was probably a company of the Royal Marines dedicated to taking out people who tried that. 

“Well, there is that.” Hecate didn’t move away. “But now that you’ve mentioned it, I expect you to dazzle me.”

Oh shit. Was Hecate flirting back with her? What the fuck was she supposed to say now?

“Uh…” Her mind went blank. “The only thing I really know anything about is football and something tells me you don’t want to hear about three-four-three combinations all night.”

“I’m sure that’s not true. And you’d be surprised at what I’m interested in. I’m not all social policy and foreign relations.” Hecate smirked at her. 

“Right, no! Of course not!” Pippa rushed the words out. She knew she had no chill, but damn that smirk was sexy. “Uhm, I’m a pretty good chess player, too.” That seemed like something that would be more down the Prime Minister’s alley.

“Really?” Hecate seemed to have perked up. Had Pippa managed to say something right for once? “Would you like to come around for a match sometime?” 

“Uh, yeah.” She was going to get beaten. She was going to get beaten so badly. But how many people could say they’d played chess with the PM? “That sounds… yeah. I’d like that.” 

“Good. I’ll have someone get in touch and set something up.” Hecate smiled. She actually smiled. “But for now, there are people to whom I need to speak. If you’ll excuse me?” 

“Right. Of course. No problem.” Pippa stepped aside. “It was good talking to you again.” 

“You as well, Miss Pentangle.” Pippa was certain Hecate glanced over her shoulder as she walked away. 

* * *

Pippa stepped into the private part of the Prime Minister’s home and looked around nervously. For some reason, she hadn’t actually expected a call from the Prime Minister’s staff asking after her schedule to find a time for this get together. And it seemed like there weren’t any photographers either. At least, she hadn’t seen any photographers so far. 

She followed behind the butler as he showed her into a side parlor where two arm chairs sat facing each other with a chess board between them. She didn’t know which chair Hecate preferred, so she simply stayed standing as the butler murmured, “she’ll be with you shortly,” before disappearing. 

She stood uncomfortably beside the unlit fireplace and couldn’t help but imagine what the room would be like in the middle of winter with a fire in the hearth. The Prime Minister owned a dog, didn’t she? Would the dog curl up beside the fire? It would certainly be cozy. Not that Pippa would ever see it. She and Hecate would play this one game and that would be it. They’d never see each other again. Even if the team won the World Cup again, it was unlikely she would be with them. Retirement loomed in front of her. She had two, maybe three seasons left before she would have to find something else to do with her life. 

Before her thoughts could turn too introspective, the door opened again and Hecate strode in. Pippa wondered if she just walked anywhere or if her movements were always so purposeful.

“Miss Pentangle.” Hecate smiled a real, honest to god smile and the feeling of not being able to breathe came back. It didn’t last as long this time though and her brain kickstarted back into gear. 

“You should call me Pippa.” There. She managed a sentence without embarrassing herself. 

“Only if you’ll call me Hecate.” Pippa could feel her eyes bugging out. 

“Right. Of course.” Just then, the half closed door swung open a bit more and a large terrier pushed her way into the room. Hecate rolled her eyes. 

“You just can’t stand being alone, can you?” It took Pippa a second to realize Hecate wasn’t talking to her and was, in fact, speaking to her dog. “Well, come say hello.” 

With a poise _Pippa_ most certainly didn’t feel, the dog walked over to her, tail wagging all the while. 

“That’s Morgana and if you pay attention to her now, she likely won’t leave you alone all night.” Despite her words, Hecate looked down at Morgana fondly. 

“That’s alright.” Pippa reached down and scratched Morgana behind one of her ears. “At least she hasn’t snuck into any official events, right?” 

“It’s been a near thing.” Hecate pursed her lips. “If Morgana’s through capturing your attention, I believe I asked you here to play chess.” 

“Right!” Pippa straightened back up again. Hecate motioned toward one of the chairs and Pippa took the cue to sit down. As soon as she did, Morgana came over and put her head on Pippa’s knee. Pippa automatically started to pet her again. 

“Would you care for a drink?” Hecate offered. “I have whisky here, but I can call someone and get you something else if you’d like.” 

“Whisky is fine.” 

Hecate silently poured them each a glass of whisky and brought them over to the chairs. She handed one to Pippa and then sat down. 

“Shall we start?” Hecate grabbed a pawn of each color and placed them behind her back. 

“Left,” Pippa said. “Sorry, your left.” Pippa nodded and indicated Hecate’s left hand. Hecate pulled her hand out and revealed the white pawn. 

“Looks like you get to go first.” She handed the pawn to Pippa who placed it back on its square on the board. Then she wiped her palms on her trousers. Suddenly, she was nervous. Far more nervous than she normally got over a game of chess. What if she played badly? What if Hecate utterly trounced her in the first five minutes? She thought she was better than that, but she couldn’t be sure. At least on a football pitch, she knew she was better than anyone who challenged her. 

Well, there was no helping it now. With a deep breath, she moved her first piece and waited for Hecate to do the same. 

* * *

The game lasted for a surprisingly long time, each of them focused hard on besting the other. They didn’t talk much and the occasional click of chess pieces being placed on the board filled the air between them. Pippa drank her whisky. And then a second whisky. And then a third. Hecate was just as far into her cups as Pippa was. 

“You’re really quite intimidating, you know?” Pippa wasn’t sure what possessed her to say it, but there they were. Pippa tipped her head back, resting it against the chair, her eyes bleary. 

“It generally serves me well.” Hecate took another sip of whisky then rolled the glass between her hands. 

“Is that how you do it? Do you just intimidate your opponents into acqui— aquicesing,” Pippa tripped over the word.

“Sometimes. I’m not much good at the ‘charm offensive’ despite my chief of staff constantly telling me to be nicer.” Hecate put her glass down and lazily moved her chess piece. They had to be close to the end of the game, but Pippa was having a hard time concentrating. She moved her piece in return. 

“I wouldn’t want you to be nicer. It’d feel fake.” Pippa rested her cheek against her hand. She didn’t know why, but a ‘nice’ Hecate Hardbroom didn’t sound very interesting. 

“I’ve been perfectly nice to you.” Hecate cocked her head to the side. 

“No, you’ve been polite. There’s a difference. And really, I’d like it if you weren’t quite so polite. Or nice. Whatever you want to call it.” What she meant was she wanted Hecate to step on her. To hold her down and tell her what to do, and oh god was that an inappropriate thought to be having about the Prime fucking Minister. 

“Is that what does it for you, Miss Pentangle?” Pippa nearly swallowed her tongue. Hecate couldn’t possibly mean that the way it sounded. 

“Told you to call me Pippa.”

“And I told you to call me Hecate, but you’ve been referring to me as the Prime Minister in your head all night. I can tell.” Hecate smirked at her and damn it if she wasn’t right. 

“I have not,” Pippa said petulantly. 

“Come here.” Hecate said as she stood. 

Pippa got unsteadily to her feet before joining Hecate on the other side of the chess board. Hecate reached for her, cupping under her jaw, and drew her in. Pippa looked at her with wide eyes until she got so close Pippa could feel Hecate’s breath on her skin, then her eyes fluttered closed. Then Hecate’s lips brushed against her own. Someone whimpered and Pippa was ninety-nine percent sure it was her. She brought her hands up to Hecate’s chest and crinkled the fabric of her shirt under her fingers. Pippa sank into the kiss, opening her mouth under Hecate’s as Hecate deepened the kiss. 

A lifetime later, the kiss finally ended. Pippa kept her eyes closed lest she open them and find out it had all been some kind of drunken hallucination. 

“Still think I’m only interested in being polite?” 

Pippa finally had to open her eyes. “No. No, I don’t think that at all.” She leaned up for another kiss which Hecate eagerly returned. She kept her eyes open this time, still wanting to make sure it was all real. 

“I’ve had too much to drink to go to bed with you.” Pippa tripped over her own tongue as she said it. 

“Presumptuous of you to assume I’d sleep with you before at least a second date.” Hecate was smirking again and Pippa felt her knees going weak.

“Was this supposed to be a first date then?” If it was, Pippa hadn’t realized it. Though looking back, maybe it had been? Now, she was confused. 

“I thought that was obvious,” Hecate said dryly. 

Pippa laughed mirthfully. “It wasn’t, but that’s alright. You can make it up to me by taking me on an actual first date.” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is. But I also really want to kiss you again.” Pippa smiled up at Hecate, hope in her eyes. 

“Then we should do that.” Hecate tilted her head and kissed Pippa once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are the best!
> 
> I’m on tumblr @twtd11
> 
> No, I don’t want to turn this into a 60,000 word novel.


End file.
